Hello good internet, It’s been a long time. Today is the first tuesday of February. A good day. You know why? Groundhogs. OH YEAH.
Oh hells yeah. Look at that sumbitch. He’s got all the where withal of a young James Brolin with the fortitude of an aged Edward James Olmos. According to American folk legend groundhogs can predict the weather, if a groundhog emerging from its burrow on this day fails to see its shadow, it will leave the burrow, signifying that winter will soon end in six weeks. If on the other hand, the groundhog sees its shadow, the groundhog will supposedly retreat into its burrow, and winter will continue. It’s a dangerous game the groundhog plays, if he continues with winter he regains his home but is ostracized from society as a menace, a doomsayer. If winter ends he’s accepted into the budding world but loses his home. Theres no good choice for our friend the groundhog, in fact I’ve come to pity the fellow.
Now you may say, “but Breedo, you suave sexy beast…how can you pity that which wrought its own fate.” and I will say to you that wrought is a very tough word for someone with your usually limited vocabulary you may wish to take it down a notch, but do not dismay I’ll explain. Groundhogs don’t choose their fate, much like firemen or jet pilots they are thrust into the limelight by the hierarchy of modern society. Groundhogs are born for one purpose…to predict the weather. If you were taught from birth to…I dunno…make delicious cheese…and for one day a year the entire world burst into your home and demanded your greatest cheese than you’d probably be a little perturbed. Imagine then that you are a groundhog. How can you share your knowledge of the weather when in one paw you damn those who seek knowledge but in the other you damn yourself. The ramifications of such a task are staggering.
Now some believe it doesn’t fall on all groundhogs but in fact one single immortal groundhog soothsayer named Punxsutawney Phil. Normally I’m not one to bring science into casual conversation but this is an exception. An average wild groundhog doesn’t survive past one year of age. One year. Thats like 12 months. Even taking into account wild groundhogs caught in pokeballs thats still only 10 years at best. How are we to believe that theres a specific groundhog who has transcended the 4th dimension and controls time. We can’t. Instead a rogue faction of folklore experts believe that Phil is in fact a title. Much like the Dalai Lama, groundhogs pass on their beliefs in a deeply spiritual rite of passage. From my research I would suggest there have been at least 98 different Punxsatawney Phils, with even more likely.
So let’s piece it all together. Groundhogs have an esoteric religious society that runs solely on the belief that the weather can not only be predicted but controlled. No Punxsutawney Phil has had the explicit ability to control the weather but each has had a staggeringly accurate ability to predict it. Should a rogue Phil ever use his powers for the destruction of mankind the government has several safety protocols in place:
– The current Phil is only allowed from his den twice a year. Once on the second of February to predict the weather and once on his estranged daughter’s birthday. He still gets her coloring books even though shes in her teens. She still loves him though.
– The den of the current Phil is an embassy on United States soil. The Phil is protected from “man” law but still must conform to the (in some ways stricter) rodent law. No son of man may step upon land considered sacred by the son of ground.
– Should a national crises emerge Phil may be allocated to help. This has only happened twice in the history of the United States, the first being the end of the Great Depression and the second being the outcome of the Grammy awards in which the band Milli Vanilli was found lip syncing.
– The current Phil has a seat on the United States Senate.
These are the ordinances set in place during the tenure of President James Madison. They have lasted the test of time and continue to this day to keep the peace between man and rodent. Should any of these rules be broken catastrophe certainly looms so I hope, that for today…and all future Groundhog Days…a peaceful union between the two species remains.
Breedo will sing, sing, sing to the masses…Oh Heartland, up yours!